The Psychology of Yarn

I have progressed from 1" to 6" of completed stockinette for my bag. The Lopi is fairly easy to work with, but my fingers don't like the scratch, my wrists don't like the circulars, and I'll be damned if my brain just doesn't like the grey. Grey... endless loops and loops of dark grey, such a mundane color that I could be knitting miles of dog hair, my hair, blood, sweat and tears into this thing, and you'd never know it to look at it. I can envision what this bag will look like when it is finished, hanging from my shoulder as I smugly take note of the covetous glances of all the young emo things at the coffee house. This is what keeps me knitting without losing the last grip of sanity that remains to my embittered husk of almost-30 resentment.

No, that is the grey talking. I'm not embittered. I'm not a husk. I AM almost 30, but I certainly don't resent it, considering the alternative, which would be to not have made it this far. I'd considered stopping where I was and frogging, making it narrower, but A) once felted, I might wind up with a too-small bag, and I'd rather have a bag that was larger than I intended, and B) I'd have to knit this 100 square inches of grey all over again. I'd also considered stopping where I was and frogging, and then making it in black and white instead of grey and white but A) I think it will look stellar in grey and white, and B) I don't have the money to buy black yarn, especially since I might have to then also buy white yarn of the same gauge and overall makeup, so's it wouldn't felt funny.

So I'm sorta stuck with the grey, aren't I? It's a sort of experiment in knitting sensory deprivation. I have faith that I will be rewarded with a bag I will enjoy, and I may be able to revise my original design plans to save me from total colorless meltdown, but it will be a long 10 more inches. In fact, I would go so far as to say that psychologically, this particular color of grey at least triples the actual length of anything knit with it.